Calliope
there is this circus of flesh
that moves faster
than the blood can pound
that over rides all cautions
lessons learned go out the window
when that circus opens
cotton candy balls of fun
for the ones who surrender
to take give take give
rise and fall
expectation and delivery
the fierce red flush of ginger hair
that surrounds the heave and heft
of the the timid and free
fleeting and heavy
melt of the stars
into a mouth
into the sudden rise
shape fall
stomach churning moment
when a glance is returned
can it be for me
take this opportunity
to ride the ride
to strut the street
to be in the middle of the bed
sheet strewn masses
wrinkled rivers of shadows
dim corner
vibrant and frightened
tongue chasing twists
buttons popping
slow stroke of zipper
happy slide of pants
shirts
sweaters
shoes socks
fly through the air
merry go around
I know the promise
I take this opportunity
to chase the roller coaster
to sharper shocks
higher highs
all dips hips slips no splinters
only the rock solid rocket
twist and tumble
the grazed knees
the bruised knuckles
the wet dry hot cool
sweat sweet breath to catch
running faster lunge
the weight of one on the other
that pulls each to the earth
accepts and shares
separates and courses
through the veins
beat pulse
throb shudder
seek the chance to get back on the ride
I know the circus
will pitch another tent
but I am reluctant to leave this one
so sweetly pitched
so well enjoyed
employed spent and flaccid
dreamy and sleepy
cozy warm comforting
how did this come about
what was the momentum
what was the cause
of this gift satisfaction
of this mind cleaning eruption
this blank slate surrender
for a few blinding seconds
squeaky mattress and lost footing
of where is my …
…. are these yours
tomorrow soon again
as good as the last time
better than ever
comfortable and accomplished
yes so accomplished
we play each other
like a big rolly polly
steam calliope
that never runs out of steam
This time of the year can be a carnival for the senses – all this commercial shouting about gifts, the perfect music, more people than usual looking for something, some one. Caught up in lights, seasonal smells of cooking, candy and too much aftershave on the subway (or not enough). A crush rush that exhausts but leaves little time savour it.
This piece is about relishing but only if one surrenders to the momentum. I’m also working at writing about sex without being overt – aiming for a hormone level of response. The circus analogy for sex isn’t new but I wanted to see what I could do with it.
I like some of the phrasing and the way it slips for one half-image into another is an almost unnoticeable flow – ‘the melt of stars/ into a mouth.’ In edit I did work on pacing, on sequence, to have it flow up and down, as it were, to follow the flow of meeting, tentative, then hopping on the ride and ending with the need for the ride to continue. For me the thickness of calliope music was a nice symbol for the thickness of cock.
This is an old piece, goes back to early 2000’s in fact, when I was getting back into poetry. I wanted to write about sex without saying ‘dick.’ That wasn’t such a difficult challenge though as I become more comfortable in front of audiences my sex writing become more direct. The need to distance from overt queer content seemed dishonest.
Not that I wanted to write directly pornographic explicit poetry but I wanted to stop trying to make some of my writing less universal – I think this piece is fairly genderless – it could opposites attract or same sex encounters. With no writer’s name attached it could be written by any sex. 
It is authentic but at the same time hiding something from the reader. That hiding came from my own residual fear of being too direct – what if audiences are offended by ‘dick’ – today I don’t care. If my being a white, entitled, cismale, over 50 who likes dick offends someone – such is life. Welcome to carnival planet earth.
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